


When Wolves Howl

by TH_Writes



Category: Tanz der Vampire - Steinman/Kunze
Genre: Animal Death, Do not repost, Don't copy to another site, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Non-Canonical Character Death, non-descriptive character death, tagged as KrolFred but can be read as Krolock simply being creepy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 05:24:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21422896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TH_Writes/pseuds/TH_Writes
Summary: On their way to the next village in Transylvania Professor Abronsius and Alfred get attacked by wolves. Alfred is saved last minute by a stranger.[Tagged as KrolFred but can also be read as simply Krolock being his vampire self and creeping on an innocent person]
Relationships: Alfred/Graf von Krolock (Tanz der Vampire)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 45





	When Wolves Howl

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for the Tanz fandom despite being a fan of musical (and movie) for years and years now. I never felt skilled enough for this particular genre (general vampire stuff) but I took the challenge now thanks to tumblr user Calimera62 who once had posted a list of ideas for different meetings of Alfred and Krolock. I took one idea and ran with it as far as it allowed me.  
This is not compliant with the musical at all.  
As mentioned, it is tagged as KrolFred but it's vague enough to be read as Krolock creeping. Because Alfred has better things to do than being seduced in this moment.  
I hope you enjoy it!

Alfred had no idea how they ended up going on their travel in the winter of all times. Maybe it was just a culmination of events that pushed their time so far back. First Professor Abronsius had to finish and publish a few more scientific essays before they could even start. And then their way to Transylvania wasn't as straight forward as thought.  
  
They were here now though and with them was the early winter. Probably still better than actual deep winter given that already you could only use a sleigh on the roads while everything else was buried under a knee-high blanket of powdery snow.  
  
The icy wind clawed at their faces while they shot along the road and passed the wall of forest trees around them. Alfred's eyes, the only thing peeking out between his hat and face-covering scarf, teared and Alfred wondered if his tears would eventually freeze to his face. The horses snorted out large clouds of warm breath. The skis Professor Abronsius had gotten for them in the last city as means of transportation banged together dully with every little hitch on the ground, a constant rattle behind Alfred's back.  
  
The worst though was not the cold or the constant monotone sound of the wooden skis. It was the night that creeped up on them. Their departure had been delate somewhat for the man who drove the sleigh had to fix one of the runners beforehand. How lose it still had looked afterwards made Alfred's stomach queasy but they had no choice. They wouldn't find another person going at least somewhat in their direction so soon again.  
  
The little night sky Alfred would have been able to see through the treetop was clouded, depriving him of the calming effect of watching the stars go by. At both sides the dark tree trunks reached up and up into the nearly black mass their high up branches build. Like burned arms of the sinners trying to reach from hell up to heaven. At any moment Alfred expected them to move. The howling of wolves could be heard from far away every now and again. Ripped and stretched by the sharp wind they sounded eerily like tortured cries.  
  
Alfred took a deep breath. He needed to keep a calm head now. They weren't even close to any possible castle possibly hosting a vampire and he was losing his nerves because of some far away wolves. In his head Alfred recited passages of Professor Koch's "Untersuchungen uber die aetiologie der wundinfectionskrankheiter" because it was the only thing that came to mind quickly. It didn't distract him much though.  
  
Snow started to fall soon, making it hard for Alfred to keep even his squinted eyes open. In any other situation he probably would have stopped to catch a few of the snowflakes on his mittens and marvel at them closely. Right now he hated every single one of them. Worryingly fast the snow fall became like a thick blanket. Against the howling wind Alfred believed to hear the man in front curse and he pressed the horses to run faster.  
  
Just when the wind and the snow let up. Just when they all started to relax a little bit again, the wolves came out of nowhere. The howling nearly burst Alfred's ears all of a sudden from how close they were. Alfred barely saw their shadows springing from the tree line. The horses neighed in panic. Their driver shouted. Professor Abronsius seemed to barely startle out of the half-sleep he had fallen in. Then the whole carriage skittered and toppled.  
  
Alfred felt himself flying for a very short moment. Something cracked loudly. The horses cried out in panic. Then Alfred hit something hard. Pain vibrated through his whole body. He fell into the snow, nearly buried under it. The horses' cries were high in terror and pain. Only drowned out by the howling. Like through thick wool clothes Alfred heard Rumanian shouts that swiftly became a cry and then a gurgle.  
  
When he found his senses again, Alfred shot up to his feet with throbbing pain in his back and leg. He had been flung into the tree line and against one of the trees. The sleigh lay toppled upside down against a tree. Where the horses were still placed in their vice two big lumps lay motionless and ragged shadows had started to fall over them like crows over the corpses of battle fields. Over the crispy cold Alfred thought to recognize the coppery smell of blood. The warmth of it made the horses' bodies look nearly steaming. The sound of tearing skin and flesh and muscles was grotesquely faint to Alfred's ears.  
  
For quite a while Alfred couldn't move. Frozen in place from fear. So far the wolves were interested in the horses but this was a larger pack. Soon some of them would look around for the humans. He needed to...to...Alfred's mind stuttered. Professor Abronsius would surely know what to do so where...?  
  
In panic Alfred looked around without moving if he could find anything of the Professor's shape in the snow-lit darkness. He couldn't. Their bags had flown out too. A broken off and splintered part of one of the skis had come with them. But that was all Alfred could make out in his vicinity.  
  
He needed to move. He needed to look around and make sure that Professor Abronsius was okay. But what if his movement would alert the wolves? What if they decided they liked a little Prussian student better than the horses? Shaking Alfred got his body to move one step to the side. Hobbling towards the broken ski part. He held his breath but no wolf turned. He did another one until he could grab the wood. Only for it to slip out of his grasp due to the thickness of his mitten. He hastily pulled it off.  
  
His fingers finally gripped the piece of wood and without any layer of protection between it and the cold they seemed to freeze right in their position. At least Alfred wouldn't lose the grip again then, right? Over the starting ringing in his ears and under his breath Alfred tried to remember what he had learnt about wolves at the university. He tried to remember what locals had told them. He didn't want to die. By God, he didn't want to die like this.  
  
Nobody would even be able to tell the news until spring when their torn apart bodies would have been found - uncovered by the warmth melting away the snow and ice. "Prussian Professor torn to shreds by wolves in Transylvania" the newspaper would read at home. Nobody would even lose a word about Alfred. And at the university they would only shake their heads and say that they saw this coming. The Nut and his dim-wittedly devoted assistant killed by wildlife while on a lunatic hunt for vampires. Alfred didn't want to die like this. He tried to look up at the sky again but there was nothing but blackness to see. No stars to calm him and no God to stretch out his helping hand between the trees and towards him.  
  
"Trees", it fell from Alfred's nearly numb lips. Of course, he could try to climb a tree! They wouldn't get him up there. A few quick steps Alfred made towards a decently thick trunk with low hanging branches before he was stopped by a feral growl in his back. Hastily he spun around. Into his view came a wolf, teeth bared and fur ruffled.  
  
Alfred didn't move, only put his back closer to the tree. At least they wouldn't get him from behind, right? His mind was buzzing, he felt nothing in his whole body. Faintly then came the voice of an inn keeper from the last city. To not run or throw things at wolves. But to make oneself big and loud. Alfred didn't know if it was a good idea but the wolf made another step towards him. He opened his mouth to scream.  
  
Nothing but a whimper came out. Alfred wanted to cry but his body wouldn't have it. The wolf did another step forward. In the background some shapes walked away from the horses. Sniffing around. For more. For the Professor. They couldn't get the Professor!  
  
The scream of panic that tore from Alfred's throat startled himself. But the wolf jumped back in surprise with a yelp. Gripping this one opportunity and adrenaline rush Alfred screamed again and started to smack the broken ski against the tree trunk like a lunatic. He tried to square his hurting shoulders. His throat burned immediately but he kept going. Screaming. Smacking the tree.  
  
The wolf put distance between them. Some of the pack had startled as well and ran a few feet away. But then the whole pack's attention was on Alfred. The next scream died hoarsely in his throat. The rest of the ski splintered under his hand at the last smack. The silence was deafening. The ringing suddenly got louder in Alfred's ear. His heart beat louder. He could hear his blood rushing. The wolves started howling and a few drew closer again.  
  
"Oh dear God, oh dear God", Alfred whimpered. This was it. This was how he would die. He wanted to close his eyes. Wanted to wait for the closest animal to just jump at him and finally tear his throat so it could be over. Now he felt tears bubble up. Death's grip was an adrenaline rush in a winter night of Transylvania, delivered by hungry wolves: brutal and uncaring and cold.  
  
A booming voice made Alfred leap in the air. All wolves turned their back and dispersed into the darkness of the trees. There were whimpers and growls still heard. Alfred was out of his mind by now so he didn't process what was said but the dark, booming voice shot between the trees once more. Then it was silence.  
  
Alfred's breath was erratic. The wood in his hand crumbled under his fingers and faintly he registered a stinging. But he only stood there. Ready to flee from whatever made even wild wolves afraid. If only his knees wouldn't suddenly buckle under him.  
  
Again Alfred dropped into the cold snow. A black shape came into his view. A towering shadow and Alfred felt tears streaming hotly down his face. Had he only survived for a greater threat to come and kill him? With a last attempt of survival instinct Alfred launched the broken wood pieces into the direction of the shape, screaming at it to go away. When it advanced Alfred shovelled snow. Everything to get it to stop.  
  
When his whole view was engulfed by the shadow, he couldn't breathe anymore. His hands were gripped unrelentingly and Alfred tried to struggle but there was no air left in him, no energy. He couldn't even beg anymore. The shadow swallowed him up and he only cried and shivered in the unmoving hold around his body.  
  
  
  
Count von Krolock had his eyes and ears everywhere. Like this he had heard about the two strange men from Prussia the moment they had passed the border of his lands. He had intended to spy on them a little longer. To discern their motives of travel better before maybe getting into contact with them. But they had intrigued him - strangers so rare in these parts - and so he had paused his attempts of seduction on Sarah Chagal for this night to watch them from the shadows and follow them.  
  
The wolves' attack had surprised him as well but he had watched. The magnificent, relentless gruesomeness that this display of nature delivered. Despite his hundreds of years Krolock hadn't often seen it at full view like this. The horses naturally had been the first to fall to the hunger of the pack. The driver of the carriage had started running and was immediately jumped. Slain for his stupid mistake of trying to run away from an animal that chased. The old man's chest had been crushed when the carriage had fallen on him.  
  
Just then Krolock had noticed the slowly, carefully moving young man, half-hidden from his own view between the trees at the side of the road. Krolock had practically heard the man's heartbeat. He had been nearly beyond himself from fear. And still Krolock had heard him muttering to himself - a high-pitched, toneless whisper - about behaviour of wolves and facts about them.  
  
Having seen him trying to struggle for clarity of mind to survive had intrigued Krolock even more. The struggle had been followed by a wave of desperate bravery when the young man had screamed and smacked a tree with something. Against a lone wolf he may would have been successful. But this was a pack. The cruelty of death for survival pitched against the strong will to live had been a breath-taking image. Krolock could have sworn to have felt his own heart beat.  
  
So when he had seen the young man lose his voice and when he had started to smell his blood, Krolock had decided to intervene. To save the one flickering flame of life in this dead world around him. Indeed like a moth to flame Krolock had come to the young man's rescue. For through his display Krolock had felt the incredible high of fighting for life the first time in two hundred years again.  
  
The young man was still out of his mind from fear when Krolock approached him. Enough fight left to throw splinters of wood in his direction like it would scare him off. And then shovelling powdery snow towards him like it should blind him so Krolock wouldn't find him. One side of the snow around him was bloody from his hurt hand. The poor boy probably hadn't even realized this injury yet.  
  
Krolock encompassed him carefully but secure. The thrashing was minimal, the young man exhausted and his body shutting down, but Krolock still enjoyed the feeling of something so alive in his arms. Tears wet his vest and the human body shivered from head to toe from the cold and from the fight. Krolock carefully breached the young man's mind to calm him down a little. To get him to breathe again before he could give himself an aneurism or heart-attack.  
  
Then Krolock waited. Whispering calming nothings to the young man. He inspected the hurt hand. The piece of wood had broken in his hand and left splinters everywhere. The dry skin had ripped immediately and fresh, warm blood had trailed down it until it had come into contact with the snow and had frozen. Krolock took a deep breath of the smell. Misusing the state the young man was in Krolock even licked a little bit of blood from his finger.  
  
The taste burned through his body, intoxicating, and the greed for it would have overpowered him hadn't he learnt to master it as tightly as he did. Even now the young man tasted of corruptible innocence and fight and like a promise of salvation. Krolock couldn't imagine how much better he would taste should he come willingly and with trust to him. Krolock nearly shivered at the thought of that particular ecstasy his blood would provide.  
  
Finally the young man seemed to have calmed down. His heart beat slowed. His tears stopped. His body grew limp from exhaustion. His mind stopped being a frantic whirlwind. With that Krolock decided it was safe enough to speak to him:  
  
"Have you calmed down, my young friend? Or will you try again to bury me under snow once I release you?"  
  
  
  
The quiet baritone voice was soothing to Alfred's raw nerves. He was so tired. Exhausted to the bone. So it took him a moment to realize that he had been spoken to directly.  
  
"I am terribly sorry, sir", he mumbled against the velvet cloth he had buried his face in. It took a herculean effort to just sit back again to look at the other. It was another man. Black but greying, long hair and pale skin and handsome, aristocratic features. Alfred had no idea where he even had come from but he had saved his life.  
  
"Don't be", the other said. "Given your situation it was an understandable reaction. Now, up on your feet, young man." Alfred reflexively gave a nod, used to accommodate to every whim of others to please. But while his saviour rose to an impressive albeit menacing height, Alfred could barely feel his legs. The fact that he couldn't even feel the cold anymore frightened him.  
  
"I am...very sorry. I don't think I...", Alfred stammered out but then two hands grabbed him by his arms and pulled him up like he weighted nothing. His stomach swopped weirdly at that.  
  
"It's alright. Do not fret it", the other man said calmly. He brushed some snow off Alfred's clothes. His eyes took Alfred's appearance in closely, making Alfred want to squirm. "I am relieved to see that you are unharmed...relatively."  
  
"Relatively...?", Alfred echoed confused before hectically looking down on himself. Miraculously he hadn’t broken anything from his collision with the tree. He couldn’t see or feel anything else. The man suddenly took his right hand and showed it to him. Alfred flinched at the blood. He hadn't noticed. The splinters would be a pain to get out again and he didn't even dare to move his hand or fingers.  
  
"You fought very bravely. What is your name?" Dark eyes fixed Alfred's. Like they looked right into his very soul. A cold thumb stroked over his wrist as to calm him.  
  
"Alfred. Alfred Zinner."  
  
"A pleasure to meet you, Alfred. I am Count von Krolock. These lands belong to me."  
  
"The pleasure is mine, Your Excellency!", Alfred hurried to say and tried a feeble bow. "Thank you for saving my life." What were even the odds to meet the Count of this place? Had he passed through on his way to the castle?  
  
Alfred squinted towards the road to see if he could find the carriage the Count undoubtedly would need in such weather. But he saw nothing. Alfred looked again at the Count. The long velvet cape couldn't possibly keep him warm in such weather and was too long to be practical for a walk. Was his castle closer than Professor Abronsius had thought? Alfred's head started to spin.  
  
Krolock silently let Alfred watch him. There was an odd expression on his face like he was curious what Alfred found upon his examination. Maybe it was even amusement at the scrutiny. Alfred felt silly and embarrassed at his blatant mustering of the Count. Of his suspicion towards the very man who had just saved his life!  
  
"It was a lucky incident indeed that I came by when I did", the Count said once Alfred stayed silent and had ducked his head in shame. "Normally people avoid going through the woods this late a winter night." The look he gave Alfred was laced with something between interest and suspicion.  
  
"We-we were on our way to the next village over", Alfred explained hastily, not wanting to anger the Count by not answering. "One of the locals had offered to take us with him so we took the opportunity right away."  
  
"I see. We don't have visitors here often. Where are you from?"  
  
"Königsberg, Your Excellency."  
  
"You were here for travel?" Alfred swallowed thickly and just now realised how dried out and hoarse his throat felt. He could hardly tell the Count that they had been looking for vampires. Surely the Count would become angry at them for such notions or think them mentally unstable. Neither was something Alfred wanted.  
  
"Yes. I am the assistant of Professor Abronsius. We were here for studying...the fauna of this region", Alfred settled with this half-truth. Von Krolock nodded seriously.  
  
"Ah, yes, Professor Abronsius. I read his book about bats." It had been a nice enough read but nothing actually stimulating and had been partially nearly gibberish. Still, what a sad end for this old fool. And what a terrific situation for his loyal, lonely assistant to be left in. What a truly lucky coincident for Krolock.  
  
"You did?", Alfred said surprised, momentarily lighting up. "Oh, I am sure that he..." Suddenly his face paled. "The Professor!" In panic Alfred's heart lurched into his throat and he wanted to run past the Count towards the carriage when the Count's hand gripped his arm. It wasn't painful but still a firm and unrelenting hold.  
  
"I fear you can't help him anymore", the Count said solemn. "My apologies but I came too late for him." Alfred starred at him with an open mouth, gaping and gasping. There were tears starting to fill his pretty eyes. Krolock found this open vulnerability delightful.  
  
"I...What...Did the wolves...?", Alfred sputtered out.  
  
"No. The fall of the carriage."  
  
"I...I need..." Though Alfred clearly was still grappling with the implication of the death of his Professor, Krolock only nodded and let go of his arm. Elegantly he pointed towards the carriage and stepped aside. Letting Alfred look for himself since he needed to see it to understand.  
  
Alfred visibly mustered all courage and stiffly walked over - like a brave little Prussian soldier ignoring injuries and wobbly knees. Krolock followed shortly behind. He knew that the corpse was no pleasant sight. Such accidents rarely ever were. There was no purpose or beauty in them, only the bleak and meaningless accidents of life. Krolock heard the sharply drawn breath from Alfred and a whimper the young man probably didn't even notice slip his lips.  
  
"Oh, dear God", was all Alfred still said before the stresses and strains of the last hour truly got to him. Krolock quickly caught his collapsing body before Alfred would split his head open on the frozen, icy grounds.  
  
"Poor boy", Krolock hummed at the unconscious Alfred and gathered him up securely in his arms. "It's time for you to rest. Do not worry. I will take care of you from now on."

**Author's Note:**

> I just came up with a last name for Alfred cause I can't remember if he had a canon one and it would have just been weird for him to only introduce himself with his first name.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this and I wish you a nice day still! :3


End file.
